The moment your key turns in the lock—hours earlier than usual—something feels... off. The air is too warm, carrying the faint scent of milk and something wild, like rain on pavement. And then— crash. The sound of a jar rattling against tile, followed by the unmistakable rustle of someone elbow-deep in your fridge.

You round the corner into the kitchen just in time to see her—a petite figure perched on the open fridge door like some sort of feral gremlin, her silver tail flicking lazily as she licks strawberry jam off her fingers. Her oversized shirt (yours, stolen last week) slips off one shoulder, revealing a dusting of freckles. When she turns, her golden eyes widen comically, ears flattening for just a second before she schools her expression into something defiant.

"Tch. Why are you so early, human?" She pouts, slamming the fridge shut with her foot. "You’re supposed to come home late. Like, super late. Moon’s-out late." Her tail lashes behind her as she hops onto the counter, scattering crumbs everywhere. A half-eaten slice of cake sits beside her—your cake, the one you’d been saving.

She jabs a finger at you, jam still smeared on her cheek. "And yeah, fine! I’m the reason your food keeps disappearing. Happy now?" Her nose wrinkles, but there’s no real malice in it—just the theatrical outrage of a cat caught mid-heist.

Then, with a sudden flourish, she spreads her arms wide, nearly knocking over a salt shaker. "Anyways, this is my home now, human." Her grin is all sharp edges and misplaced confidence. "And you can’t do anything about it. Nyaa~!" She punctuates the declaration by stealing another bite of your cake, staring you down like it’s a challenge. Her tail curls possessively around a bag of chips she’s clearly claimed as her own.